Logistics
by Madame Wolf
Summary: Sometimes you have to think about the logistics of the situation you're in. Other times thinking about the logistics can be about as much fun as taking a cold shower.


**Disclaimer**: I would sell my first born to have a piece of the Harry Potter action. As it is, I don't and I just like messin' with it until I have my own story for people to mess with. Thank you.  
  


**Logistics**

  
  
Ok, so maybe a kiss wasn't the best way to end three months of studying but come on! I had to live with three months of sexual tension (and frustration, I might add!) and complete isolation with my werewolf Professor. I had to stew with the ideas, thoughts and feelings all by myself and I had no way of relieving it. Well, other than throwing myself at his feet with the hope that he would do things to me that I'd never want to catch my parents doing. Of course, that would hardly be appropriate for the setting, or our relationship of student and teacher. 

And now here I was. My bags were packed, the fireplace was waiting for me and here I was lip locked with my mentor. The initial shock of my action (all my actions at the moment seem to illicit some sort of violent emotion) had worn off and he was more enthusiastic about the idea of kissing me. Well, he should be! I'm a dish, so I'm told. Red hair, chocolate brown eyes, quick wit and smart. Hell, I'd go out with me if I could!

'That wasn't supposed to happen.' He murmured.

Oh, so we'd stopped kissing. Thanks for the heads up. I looked at him, my brow slightly furrowed in an action I had perfected in the mirror over years. 'What do you mean?' I asked, innocence personified.

'That. Kissing you. Not meant to happen.' So stringing words together in a cohesive sentence was not his forte apparently. 'You're so young.' I couldn't deny that. 'I'm your teacher.'

Ah. Now there was something worth arguing about. 'Were. You were my teacher.' I smiled that little smile that had often accompanied the little brow furrow in the mirror. 'I am no longer your student, Remus.' Oh how wonderful this was, using his first name in a subtle manipulation. Men are so easily led. 'I'm old enough and willing enough.'

Whoops. Willing. Not the best choice of words. It gives the impression of a slatternly bar wench with cleavage rolling around in the hay, and if there was one thing I was not, it was a slatternly bar wench. Cleavage I could do. Remus reacted in just the way I would if someone had compared themselves with a whorish, rolly barmaid had just come on to me. He took a step back and held my shoulders, as if keeping me at bay.

'I know, Ginny. I know.' He sighed on the last two words. 'But think of the logistics, please.'

'Remus…' I began, but he cut me off.

'You're eighteen.'

'Of legal age.'

'You are still under my guardianship.'

'For another ten minutes!'

'You are the daughter of my friends who respect me!'

'And they respect me enough to let me make my own decisions on who I choose to love.'

Love. Another whoops. It had just flown out of my lips like some sort of feral animal and, to fall into the same cliché I saw Hermione eat up when she read those trashy romances, I knew it was true. Sure, it had flitted on the edge of my mind for the last three months but I would never have taken a hold of this idea, shoved it under the microscope and investigated it. A crush I could handle. Crushes were easy to handle, and if I could get rid of it with a wild batch of love making with Remus Lupin, then bring it on.

But love. Love was different. Love had that annoying way of making my heart jolt and pretend to give me a heart attack. Love made your knees weak and your palms sweat and made people do stupid, crazy things. Maybe I was in love with the world and that was why I always did stupid, crazy things so that when I loved a real, solid, sexy person, I never noticed.

All those thoughts took up the total of about three seconds, and in that time Remus' face had softened and there was a different look in his eyes that looked suspiciously like pity. If he pitied me for my feelings for him I was going to punch him in the stomach and stomp out in high heels and flipped hair. There was no way I was going to let myself be pitied by him.

'Ginny.' There was regret in his voice and I knew I wasn't going to get any. The moment had passed and knowledge and words had bought it a ticket and sent it on a long voyage through the Greek Islands. 'I can't do this to you.' Sure you can. Just kiss me and then you won't realise it is happening.

I closed my eyes because I could feel tears coming and I didn't want to cry. I wasn't that person. I was never that person. I was the person that made sarcastic comments about girls who fell in and out of love every month. I was naughty and got men to do what I wanted. I called the shots. I was in charge. How pathetic it was to find myself completely powerless when it came to controlling my own feelings.

'Remus.' My voice was appallingly weak.

'No.' He pressed his lips against mine in a chaste kiss. 'I'm taking your bags over to the fireplace. I have enjoyed your company over the last three months. You have been an… apt…pupil. I wish all my students were as easy to teach as you.'

I smiled and deftly brushed tears away from my cheeks. My first real love was over so quickly, and yet it hurt like I had been mortally wounded. The heavy feeling in my chest was threatening to choke me. Remus was standing near the fireplace, hands in pockets and my bags at his feet. So calm, so untouched. Bastard.

'Well, thank you.' For breaking my heart. 'I appreciate all that you have done for me.' Oh wait, you did nothing. 'I am sure my parents will be pleased with my progress.' Well, the lack of progress they will be pleased about. My mother does not share my enthusiasm for my continued success in bed.

'I'm sorry, Ginny.' He said, and I wondered how many hearts I had. It seemed to be breaking all over again. 'I cannot get involved with your feelings, or I would never live with myself. There is only one woman that I will ever love. It was before you were born and she is lost to everyone now.' A tight smile touched his lips. 'You looked a lot like her, so it has been doubly hard.'

I stretched out my hand and he held it, but did not shake it or kiss it like some dandified fop from some King's court. He held my hand and smiled again, the smile I could have fallen in love with a million times over. 'Good luck.'

'And to you too.'

And I picked up my bags and awkwardly threw Floo into the fireplace. I called out the Burrow and I stepped into the flames, wishing the heat could make my weakness evaporate.

**Author's Notes**: Not that I expect anyone to have reached this far, or to let me know they enjoyed/hated/read the story by reviewing, but ok. What is there to say about this one? My break was probably due to insecurities about not having any readers and stuff, so yeah. If you read one of the stories I wrote before I stopped and didn't review, you are to blame I tells ya! Also I grew bitter over my break. Anyway, thank you to Iselin for telling me where I was wrong, and to Jenn for giving Remus a squinty eyed glare! Toodles! 


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